Where The Lines Overlap
by ThePrincessEllie
Summary: Arthur Kirkland, a man of twenty one, working in London, England, living his daily routine, suddenly changes when a girl enters his life. When their friendship slowly grows, Arthur is faced with the choies of letting himself go with either his heart or his head.
1. The Fading Train

A train left the platform of the station. The clatter of metal, of moving parts, were clicking together and working to propel the machine, and all the passengers who were eager to get to a destination. Perhaps a place they would find that they could call "home" the sound lasted for a long time, and the woman in the window waved energetically at him, yet a little sadly. Arthur and the woman both wished that she didn't have to go. Arthur, a young man of only twenty one, waved back at the young woman. That hand, swinging stiffly back and forth, the other, buried deep in his wool coat's pocket, clutched around his phone, he smiled sadly at her. He could see his breath pass his lip in a white cloud. The snow began to fall, softly and gently. He looked up, his eyes green like the top of forest trees in the summer day, rich and lifely. He wrapped his scarf a little tighter around his neck, hoping to enclose some warmth that his body emitted. With a small sniffle, he pulled his phone out and selected an app. He wore gloves, that luckily, suited the fashion choices of a modern day gentleman, while enabling him to use his phone and any other touchscreen devices. He felt a small burning sensation from his upper back, right on the shoulder blade, where a mark of his failures would always stay.

January 08, 2014 The world passes by, and I watch the girl who loved me go by. I can't reciproc- That sounded like crap. Absolute and utter shit. I sound like a melodramatic teenage girl.

A friend of his recommended trying to write a diary to help him (he preferred to call a diary a journal instead), to write down his thoughts and keep his emotions in order (they also complimented how his writing was fantastic, the perks of growing up with famous authors over the decades). The snowflakes swirled above him, each tiny white dot performing a dance as they descended gently downwards. He wanted to cry, crying in public however, would make it seem like he wanted attention. He could stifle his emotions until he got home. The smell of smoke and snow was nearly tangible on his tongue. He inhaled deeply, trying to remember the bittersweet smell in the air. A left, then a right around the block. His pace quickened as he raced with his emotions and how quick he would be able to return to his apartment in London.

Through the newly, gray, plush carpeted hallway with the yellow walls, a mahogany door with the numbers '186' were in gold. Arthur gripped the doorknob as he inserted the key into the lock. Hearing the click, he felt some sense of relief as he entered his own home.A kitchenette in the corner, with just the basic appliances, a stove, microwave, refrigerator, freezer, sink, ect.

The first thing that Arthur saw was his living room, with the telly against the wall across from a tan, plush looking couch. He slammed the door, and waited in the silence. Then, a sniffle emitted from him, the soft sounds of crying. He didn't make any sort of attempt to stop his crying. In an attempt to retain some form of honesty, (once upon a time, Arthur lied a great deal) he did love her, a lot. However, his role forbade him from loving another girl (or boy).

An embodiment of a nation, history unfolded right before his eyes, he lead troops, and watched the world grow old. Yet, set straight at the heart of humanity, his body aged slowly. He looked twenty one, however he was thousands of years old.

When she first entered his lonely household, she was bright, like the warm sunlight, with shiny hair and warm eyes. Her sleeping figure lay amongst the white sheets and pillows, her hair, tangled and spread like wings out. Her mouth was open, and her bangs covered a great deal of her face. Arthur thought the sight was rather unattractive, but endearing. She moaned, "Good morning," she paused then added, "Arthur." His name took her a moment to recall.

"Good morning, Miss." Arthur replied, opening her drawers and placing some clothes into it. His fatherly instinct immediately took over and he was reminded of the days he took care of little Alfred, of course, the memories still stung as he thought of the bitter end. They were friends now, but he became more irritating if anything. Secretly, he liked him, as a father should always with his son. The love between them was platonic and family based. She sat up. This girl was a morning person, Arthur noticed. This wasn't a bad thing, he had someone to keep him company in the morning. For this company, he always gave her new clothes to wear each morning.

Money wasn't an issue, the government kept him busy and working hard as always. He had a steady job and income. Acts of generosity, like buying clothes for this girl, made him feel a little warm. Besides, it was kinda like dressing a doll, he could see why Francis enjoyed fashion so much. It wouldn't become a hobby for him; he would always prefer swordplay above all else, or playing the violin. Maybe a little needlework, after all, stitching your own clothes would come in handy nowadays.

She walked into the kitchen where she would begin cooking. This was the arrangement, after the first day of being roommates, the girl would always cook the meals. Arthur didn't put up much of a fight, especially after she looked at him a little teary. He didn't know whether that was an act or not. He didn't especially care, she was a really good cook. Her pancakes were to die for. Sighing heavily, he followed her out into the kitchen, where he began to set the table. Talking wasn't really frequent between the two of them, as they preferred a good long moment of silence to their self. She never hummed and worked diligently, occasionally brushing a strand of hair out of her face. He nearly chuckled to himself as he remembered how she burned her hair over the fire and turned the tips of her hair orange. They laughed a little over that.

Arthur pulled out the pot and scanned the cabinet dedicated to a variety of tea, English, green, herbal, fruit, exotic brands and leaves from all around the world filled the selves of this small cabinet. He pulled out an Earl Grey, from the 1800s, preserved quite finely, if he could say so himself. Two scoops for two people went into the pot and he poured the boiling water into it. Now, he would wait for the pot to brew, it would only take a few minutes. The eggs and bacon slid from the girl's spatula and landed onto the separate plates. His was an egg over easy, and her's were scrambled. The two different eggs made it easy for the two to identify whose plate was who's. The rays of sunlight had already broken through the curtains. Arthur had a small feeling that it would be a good day, as a sunny day was rare in London.

He turned on the television, hoping that the newscaster would add a little noise to the silence. Although as much as he liked silence, he could tell that something was bothering the girl, and the silence today felt awkward and sad. The two sat out on the patio, leaving the television on in the living room. He sipped from his tea. "What do you think you're going to do?" he asked, a little bit of conversation might help ease her emotions.

"I'm going to go visit a friend." she replied, sounding a little hesitant.

"You sound nervous." he said, instantely picking up on the sound of her voice.

"Do I?" she replied, then added a "hmm" for an added effect. She set her teacup down with a slight clatter against the glass plate.

"Yes, actually, you do. Are you sure you want to go? You don't ever have to do anything you don't want to. It's all a matter of consent."

"You sound like my mother." she spat, wanting him to shut up and be done with the topic.

"Well, it's not my fault if you won't stop being so bloody sad. I can literally see the fact that your upset on your face." He only drank some tea, saying each word easily. Arthur was a defensive person and was quick to defend himself with words.

"Why don't you try being nicer then?" her words were sharp and aimed to cut through his own. They had tense banter like this before, but now, this seemed more rough, angrier. The girl finished her plate and stood up. "Excuse me." She said, before taking the rest of her meal inside and placing it in the sink to be washed later.

Arthur merely sat on the patio, he sighed. Another one of his flaws, he lacked a gentleness to his personality, swore like a sailor, and never seemed to be able to "reach out" to help the girl living right now, inside his own apartment. (At the very least, she was able to help pay for rent.) He did regret some of the things he said. Maybe later, when the two had finished their business. He would apologize. Maturity, however, came easily and naturally to him. Perhaps, it was due to the thousand year living thing. She left, and he heard the closing of the front door. The breeze of the wind had a cooling and gentle effect on Arthur.

He finished the last bits of food on his plate, but tried to drink as little tea as possible in order to preserve the drink. He did love his tea, hopefully, there would be more in the pot. Arthur stared down at the tea leaves in his cup, and dropped the cup. He knew when he saw an omen, to believe it. The shape of a storm cloud sat in the cup, amongst all the other pieces of leaves. He leaned back and hoped this didn't mean anything for the two of them later.


	2. The False Sign

That day, when the sun was nearly setting, Arthur sat on the couch waiting for the girl to return. He had gone out, bought groceries, shopped a little bit online, went to the post office, and all sorts of other chores. She still hadn't returned. It was a bit worrisome. "I'm home!" her voice chimed out, as she opened the door with her own key. She pulled off her shoes and went inside after setting them on the mat next to the door, mainly for the use of placing shoes there.

Arthur looked at her. "Hey, are you okay?" He asked, standing up from the couch and approaching her.

"Why are you asking?" She replied, her eyes narrowing in hesitation. With each small step, her figure moved subtly from the door "It's not very polite to answer a question with a question." Arthur knew that something was wrong. She was a sweet girl, like candy. Her eyes were wide.

"I don't want to talk about this, when there is nothing to talk about. Goodnight, Mr. Kirkland." She turned her back to him and walked to her room. Maybe she was having a bad day.

I should turn into bed as well. Arthur thought to himself. He hated her mood swings. Hate seemed to fit as an appropriate word. Arthur slumped defeatedly into his room. He didn't like arguing with her about these sort of things. He knew it wasn't his business to inquire about her whereabouts, but he could tell that something was bothering her. The sandy haired man closed the door as silently as he could. Then, he pulled off his wool socks, his shirt, and his pants. Then replaced his shirt and pants with something more worn, yet soft from being made with organic cotton. Then, pulling back the covers and throwing himself onto the bed, as the mattress creaked under the sudden weight. Sighing, he rolled onto one side and turned the lamp on. He pulled his worn copy of Sherlock Holmes and opened to a bookmarked page. He pulled his reading glasses on. He read slowly. Then when the digital clock read 10:34 he turned the lamp off and fell asleep. Morning came, the best part of sleep was the fact that the hours went by so quickly. Arthur had supplied the girl with clothes for the rest of the week. So he didn't have to worry about her. Not that he wanted to anyway?

He went into the kitchen, still donning his pajamas. Messy bed head, rumpled clothing, in a boyish way, any girl (possibly boy) would find him cute. The sizzle of food and oils could be heard from the stove. He could easily make the deduction that his guest woke up and proceeded to make breakfast. Perhaps as an way of apologizing. No way in hell would I forgive her. He thought, his eyebrows twitching in annoyance. But, It's the mature thing to do, he thought next. "Look, I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday." he started, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, that's very mature of you." she said, sounding like his mother. The tone was slightly irritating to him.

"Well, I figured I could make it up to you by taking you out shopping. Shopping with me will be loads of good fun." he laughed nervously, truth be told, he never shopped much, only buy what he needed and get out. Things were simpler that way.

"Really?" she looked up, her eyes shimmering with a slight look of hope. This rang alarm bells in Arthur's head, perhaps she was poor? He didn't know much on her background, other than that she was a good person, attractive and mysterious. Mysterious as in, her person of today could easily be deduced, but her past was the mysterious part. Oh well, that part wasn't much of his business.

They had breakfast, and continued with the normal routine, had lunch, then began their shopping trip. The pair visited many stores, Arthur was sure his back was going to break from all the bags and boxes he had decided to carry. The gentlemanly thing to do was to help her with all her shopping, right? He wasn't doing much of it himself, and she helped carry some to, so it wasn't a one person job of carrying things. However, it made it difficult to hold open the door for her. Luckily, they were approaching the car again, so he could store everything in the trunk of the car. He set down everything on the sidewalk, while she watched over it, he pressed a button on the key and they began to move everything into the car. She wore a gray coat with a fur hood, days in England got quite cold, after all. He wore his favorite blazer over a sweater, with a button down collar peeking out from the top. Then, he looked to his companion,

"How's that?" he asked. They burned up a good deal of money, he would have to take extra shifts in order to make up for it. He was a hard worker though.

"Oh! Thank you!" She squealed and hugged Arthur tightly. He gave her a stiff hug back. He walked up to the passenger seat and opened the door for her before walking over to the driver's side and sitting down. He started the car and pulled away from the curb. Traffic thickened as Arthur drove towards the heart of the city. Driving felt like walking, completely natural. He did have a lot of practice driving after all, over the course of the years. He drove steadily towards his apartment.

"You won't be needing any more clothes for a while." He remarked, keeping his lips tipped downwards in a frown.

"Not at all!" She replied, happily. She hummed to herself, in a childish fashion.

"Well, you're welcome." He forgot to say that when she had offered her thanks earlier. "It wasn't a problem at all." In fact, he found it slightly enjoyable. Slightly. He wouldn't admit anything.

"Well, going out shopping with a friend is always good fun, right?" She asked in her jovial voice. He softened slightly. He was glad that she returned to her bright mood.

"Well, with a good mate, someone light hearted." He commented.

"That's true." She agreed, with a small nod of her head. Arthur kept his eyes locked on the road, while talking with the girl about their shopping he pulled up into the parking garage of his apartment, they stepped out on the concrete floor. The two listened to the echo of their footsteps as they headed for the elevator, while struggling to keep the bags within their grasps. He set down a few of the bags and boxes on the ground, opened the apartment door for the girl and ushered her inside. She set the bags down next to the kitchen counter and jogged over to help Arthur take some of the bags inside. They sat down on the couch, sighing out of relief to be home. Shopping and walking around did exhaust a person.

For the next few days, the two had lunch together once, twice they went out for dinner. They slowly got closer and closer. Their relationship was at the point where they laughed a little more, opened up a little. "Hey, how are you feeling?" Arthur asked one morning.

"In the mood for some candy." she mumbled.

"You always are." he replied, smiling softly. "I can't help it if I love sugar!" she looked up at him.

"Well, you should worry about your health."

"I don't care about that!"

"You should!" he urged.

"Oh well!" she joked, then set their breakfast on their plates. Perhaps the sign in the cup was false. Maybe it was just something his mind imagined. He knew the consequences if he were to fall in love with a human. Any one of "them" who falls in love with a human, shall be branded with an 'x'.


	3. The Doomed Fantasy

Arthur enjoyed waking up, he honestly did. He began to find some pleasure in having breakfast, and spending some time each day with the girl. There was a certain clearer joy to him. Not like happiness or excitement, but a certain kind of energy to keep him going.

"Morning." she mumbled, in a sleepy tone. Lately, she had been having a small case of insomnia.

"Good morning." Arthur replied, filling the tea pot with water. This morning would consist of a relaxing chamomile tea. Hopefully, she would be able to lie down for a nap later in the day. She yawned loudly and opened the fridge door. She pulled out a carton of eggs and milk from a cluttered shelf.

The familar sounds of breakfast cooking sounded about the small kitchen. Arthur had become accustomed to the noise, and appreciated it. It felt nice to have some company living about in the apartment other than himself.

This apartment was designed as a "getaway" for Arthur. He enjoyed living luxuriously in the palace. But, he needed to feel like a human would, so he could keep some form of understanding about the lifestyle of some of his people. The girl just happened to fall into this routine.

A rapping on the door peaked the girl's curiousity and Arthur's. "You'll get that, right?" She asked.

"Yeah, sure." He walked over to the door, he wasn't properly dressed, and wore sweatpants and slightly dirty socks. "Hullo?"

"Âllo!" Francis's voice sang out, in a cheerful manner. Arthur detested this man, absolutely detested.

"Yo, dude! You should open up! It took us forever to find this place!" Alfred, another annoyance in Arthur's life.

Politeness and association called for him to open the door, "What the hell do you wankers want?!" He shouted, agressively.

"Woah, calm down. We just needed to talk to you." Alfred, the representation of the United States of America, replied quickly. His blue eyes sparkled with a strange playfulness of a child. He was a young nation once

"We just wanted to know about your new "housemate"." Francis added.

"Her?" Arthur pointed back to the girl finishing up with breakfast. "We're just friends."

"Well, you remember all those consequences, right? Branded and humiliated, along with mocked and outcasted, socially." Francis retorted. The nation of France had a valid point, a point that Arthur did not want to admit.

"Well, I'm not interested in her. So you don't need to ride my ass about this, you idiots." Arthur's paitence was slowly being drained each minute they stayed.

Arthur didn't want to admit, but he was lonely. He had little companionship amongst the other nations. A relationship, a marriage between humans was forbade, as they would live on and on, and their partner would die. The issue would cause a nation to break down, in a sense. If they truly loved a human, they would become more and more depressed. Past cases upon the issue had proved this to be the truth. A rule had been instated that a nation would be not be able to fall in love. Nations surrounding a suspected nation would have to take immediate action.

There was a death penalty as well. Death to the human a nation loved. Death to the girl, if Arthur loved her. He looked over his shoulder. She had finished setting their table and everything. That was his job! He felt grateful and guilty because he knew that he shouldn't leave her to do everything.

"Well, you never know, Arthur. We're just worried about you. It's a mental strain to go through...that." Francis felt a mixture of sadness and worry in his stomach. Joan. Her name brought on the faint mixture of feelings. If he continued thinking about her he would make himself feel worse. A few years after the rule had been enacted, she wandered into his life. Headstrong, and determined. He was instantly enraptured and captivated. He hated himself for her death.

"Yes, I know." Arthur groaned. This was just regurgitated information. "I have no plans on doing anything."

"Well, just be careful, old friend. Sometimes, you never realize how you feel." Francis warned, he knew that their long and bloody history made them enemies. But, as a person, ignore their ties, he cared about Arthur. "It's when you realize it. Then, it's the greed. The want. The desire." His voice took on a very serious tone.

"Alright. I get it. Will you get off my doorstep?"  
Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Look, I don't want to see you, get, get humiliated." Alfred said, casting his gaze downwards. "There's just a certain," he paused, "Pain. I don't want to see that happen to you." He looked hurt, as if there was some thought that hurt him deeply.

"Au revoir, Arthur. Don't do anything stupid now." Francis waved at him. Alfred and him closed the door. Arthur turned back and walked over to the girl, prepping himself and trying to set himself in a stable mood.

"Thank you for breakfast." Arthur pulled a stool and began to eat. The meal was cooling at this point.

"You're welcome." She replied. She was almost finished. The sight hurt Arthur, he was so busy dealing with the idiots at his door, his breakfast, his homemade, not burnt breakfast was cooling. He hoped that as long as they stayed friends, he could enjoy more delicious breakfasts. His own prowess as a cook was one, he would be reluctant to admit, horrible. "Who were those guys?"

"Oh, just some, uh, friends!" At this point, his personal relationship with both of them was confusing.

"Ah." She placed her fork and knife on the plate. "I'm probably going to stay home. I don't want to go and talk to people, yeah." She carried her plate over the sink where it clattered as it hit the other dishes piled up in it.

"I'll, uh, wash those later." Her hair, her hair. He watched the long, silk like hair swish from side to side. She was beautiful. With almond shaped eyes, rosy cheeks, pretty, soft skin. Long eyelashes. She was pretty. Even in fuzzy, animal pajamas and a t shirt of some show.

"I'm going back to bed, then." She yawned and left the room, leaving Arthur by himself.

"Have a..." He called out, and then realized she probably had already burrowed herself deep under the blankets. "Good...rest."

"Hey, Arthur. Have you seen my shoes anywhere? I have a date tonight..."

"A date? With who? Oh, and your shoes are over there." Arthur pointed at the single shoe, burnished to a shine.

"My," she paused to bend over and grab her shoe. "Boyfriend." she finished.

In a instant, Arthur felt some weird anger, a possessive urge, yet he felt hurt at the same time. "Oh? I hope he's nice to you." he bite his tongue to prevent him from saying anything.

"Very!" Her tone sounded warm, yet vaguely false. Was she lying?

He didn't understand the weird feeling of anger towards the girl's boyfriend. He didn't want to meet him, speak to him, he felt like he wanted to punch him. Am I jealous? He asked. No, jealousy is disgusting. I'm just hurt, right?

No. He wanted to talk to her all the time. He wanted to hold her hand. He wanted to kiss her, and tell her that she was pretty, all the time. That's a really good friendship, right? He asked to himself.

"Hey Arthur! I'm going to turn into bed." She informed him. The bed creaked as Arthur turned to face her. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He approached the girl in the doorway. He smiled and cupped her face.

Arthur closed the space between the two of them. He kissed her. She didn't do anything but kiss him back. She wrapped her arms around his neck. When he pulled away, her cheeks were flushed from the sudden intimacy. He had her alone. All to himself. He, all to herself. He wrapped his arm around her and walked her into the room, closing the door behind them with a silent click.

With eyes and lips swollen from sleep, tangled hair, and bite marks on her skin, she shifted in her sleep. She laid naked in his arms. He breathed in and out, slowly, taking in the satisfactory scent in the air. He curled his own naked self around her and held her close. He let himself fall back to sleep once again.

The next time he awoke, he was alone in his bed. He didn't hear anything in the kitchen, or anywhere else in the house. His stomach dropped, boyfriend. He would stay calm. Hopefully, she was still in the house. He couldn't help but feel proud, in a sick way. He had gotten what he wanted, to a point. He got her into bed with him, but that wasn't enough.

The problem with greed, is that, it's not about money or power, it's about something you desire, and that could be anything you want, material or living. He was slightly satisfied that he had her, phsically. But, he definitely wanted more. Now, however, wasn't the time to focus on that. He had to look for her.

The door opened, and a pair of voices, one being the girl's, and the other being a man's could be heard. "Are you fucking kidding me? How stupid can you possibly get?"

"Look, I get that your mad, but I'm so sorry. Just, calm down so we can talk this out like adults."

"No! Who is the dumbass? I'll punch his damn brains out."

"Who the hell do you think you are to just barge into my apartment like this?" Arthur shouted.

"You're the one who fucked my girl!"

"Well, I might have. But, I could have you arrested for trespassing."

"Arthur! It's okay!"

"No! This is not okay, and will not be okay!" Arthur could feel himself becoming angrier with each passing second. He understood what was wrong, but this idiot in his house wouldn't think rationally, what was he? Twelve?

With a 'humph' of proclamation, the girl's boyfriend's fist connected the gap between them and struck his jaw. Arthur struck back by hitting his stomach, he had left his entire torso open. Easily, with Arthur's experience, this would be short. When he bent over, Arthur hit his back with his elbow, and watched him fall.

The girl stood in shock, unsure of who's side she should go to. "Arthur! Are you okay?" She said, there was a small dribble of blood coming from his mouth.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Arthur wiped the blood, he felt slightly dizzy. He hadn't taken a blow like that in a while. But, the man on the floor was in worse condition.

"You! Get out." The girl commanded, to her boyfriend. "And, we're over! I won't have an idiot for a boyfriend, you never ever listened to me!" The ex, slowly got up, with a slumping figure, he left the apartment.

She hugged Arthur. He hugged her back. She smelt sweet, luckily, he knew that he wouldn't ever let anything hurt her. Death wouldn't touch her. Not until it was her time


	4. The Game of Lies

Humans are quite territorial. The bruise from affection on the skin, a cut lip from a primitive kiss, all marking something that they have, Arthur thought. People, including himself, all wanted something. The famish of the heart was sickening and consuming.

The desire for children plagued Arthur's thought process as of late. He had no intention of ever trying to create a child, not with the mother being a human. Not a single country knew the consequences of nation/human offspring. But, the idea was highly tempting in its own way.

The girl pulled the bed sheet over the corner of the mattress. Laundry day was yesterday and she worked hard on her chores. She felt a little carsick, a dizziness. Possibly the beginnings of a headache, she thought. A drop, like a heavy ball all throughout her. Pregnant. The questions rolled in. But, the answer and solution of a pregnant test was a somewhat soothing effect.

She would rush to the store immediately. The morning still held its freshness. Lunch would come soon however. Arthur would be expecting a well prepared meal. 10:32 the clock read. She could make the meal before Arthur came home, or at least start it and lie a little. He wouldn't need to know about her pregnancy worries yet.

She plucked her coat off the rack and pushed her arms through the thin, cotton sleeves. The woman sighed. Then crouched down to pulled on her sneakers and shuffled out the door. She shut the door, as if she didn't want Arthur to hear, even if he wasn't home. She felt some form of adrenaline and anxiety pumping through her blood.

What would he say? Most people thought that babies were needless, especially in a relationship that had lasted for a month so far! No, it was best to tell him, eventually. He needed to know, hopefully he would guide her throughout the time. That is, if she was pregnant. The last sentence alleviated her current emotion of panic.

She left the apartment building and made way towards the store. Thin branches of tiny trees made wooden cracks in the sky when she looked up. She opened the door, and was greeted with a warm rush of air.

Why? Why am I so stupid? She thought. I should have paid more attention to those health classes back in America. Maybe, her symptons were just something she thought up. She snuck into the medicine section of the store. Anything, she thought as she pulled a pregnancy test package off the rungs.

The price didn't matter. She just wanted to buy and get out. She dashed to the check-out and swept the bag onto her arm.

When she arrived back at her home. She dashed to the bathroom, carelessly leaving her things. She unfastened her belt and went to work. After the step of peeing on it, she waited. The clock seemed to slow down, the second hand working slowly. She breathed in deeply, the load on her felt like it was going to crush her at any given second. She wasn't going to be able to stand this.

There was a plus. A yes. The world spun, and she fell on her knees. She curled up and sobbed. The timing could have been worse and Arthur opened the door.

"What happened? Are you okay?" His soft smile was wiped clean from his face, once he heard sobbing. There was a castaway coat draped over the back of the couch. One shoe was not with it's other.

He dashed over to her side, and put his arm around her. Then he saw it. The test. All his fears, cracked down on him. It was his. He knew it was. Unless she slept with someone else. But, she was his lover now, he would raise it like his own. Damn it. He thought, then realized all of his fears. It crippled him, somewhere inside, he felt scared, nervous, anxious. This baby growing inside of her, signaled the end.

He rubbed her shoulder. He would put on a brave face. This has to be harder for her, than him.

"What do you wanna do?" Yelling at her would not make things better. He breathed in slowly, trying to keep a rational sense of calm. No outrage. This was their fault. He would be mature about this.

"I-I don't know. I've..." She choked out the words slowly.

"Shh," he hushed, trying to soothe her. They could abort it, possibly put it up for adoption? Who knew what this child would be like though. "Let's go sit down."

She stood up, with the help of Arthur. She walked, stumbled, actually, towards the couch. When she sat down, she buried her face in his chest. He could feel small wet spots on his shirt. Shirts could be washed. He would make the exception for her.

The fear inside of her was slightly soothed. He knew, so much for her plan of hiding it. Although, he could have taken it worse. Usually, those who are supportive and good about these sorts of things are good people. He could be an ass. But, he was a good person either way.

The long hand on the clock moved forward, slowly. Her crying softened and became quieter. Eventually, she sat up and thought. This wasn't the end of the world. Nobody else could punish her. Not family. Not friends. No one but Arthur. She didn't have to tell her family or her friends.

She was good at keeping secrets. After a while she would be able to distract herself. She just needed to let it out now.

Arthur knew time was running out for them. He wouldn't be able to keep lying about all of this.


	5. For A Short While

She lounged on the couch, rubbing her stomach while watching the television. She could hear the door open and close behind her and assumed it was Arthur.

A swollen eye, black and purple spots on his arms, a trail of blood from a cut lip, Arthur, being held back by Alfred.

"Let me go!" Arthur squirmed against Alfred's brute strength. At this point, the girl, with her stomach bulging with that of a developing baby, like a oyster carrying a pearl, stood up. She turned on her heel and gasped.

"What the hell are you doing?" She shrieked, approaching them and trying to pry Alfred's arms from Arthur. "

"I can't do that!" Alfred could feel the world spinning around him. His mentor, his parent, friend...he kept a secret as huge as this from him. "You broke the biggest rule we have to follow,"

The gig was up, the cat was out of the bag, the secret was out, thought Arthur. His stomach dropped like a ball. Panic flooded throughout his entire body. A headache was begin to form in the back of his head. He couldn't help but squirm, he didn't know what he'd do to the baby and her. He was weak, he told himself. He couldn't even keep a damn secret. How the hell did Alfred find out anyway? He questioned. The crackling pressure at the back of head felt unbearble, like someone was splitting his skull.

Blackness. The spiraling blackness. Then nothing. Arthur went limp in Alfred's arms. "Shit!" Alfred cursed. "Don't pass out on me now!"

The girl had stood frozen in her tracks, then fled. She pumped her arms, but being pregnant didn't help for speed. Alfred, slowly putting Alfred down, "Hey, wait!" He called out. "Fuck." He repeated under his breath. After setting Arthur down, Alfred chased after her. The girl ran into her bedroom, and locked the door. She sat down in front of it, pressing her back against the door and couldn't help the fear in her flood her eyes. She screamed liked as she sobbed, her perfect little world, her soon to be happy life with Arthur. Over. All gone.

Alfred rattled the door, trying to open the door. Arthur would never want to talk to him again after all this. He should've helped. "Hey! Lemme in!" As if that simple sentence would let him in.

"No!" She cried out.

He would break the door, he stepped back then will a single motion, he swept the door off it's hinges causing it to fall onto the girl. She was screaming even more now. Then, silence. Alfred lifted the door, reminding himself why he was doing this, for the sake of Arthur's dignity, for his pride as a nation, for his safety, and the one single selfish reason, the fact that Arthur's secret needed to be punished as such, for judgement was needed.

But if a hero loses his friends, who does he have to protect? He asked himself. No, he shook his head, he would do what was right.

Francis came through the open doorway. He crouched down by Arthur's unconscious body, "I'm sorry, old friend." He mumbled into his ear, hoping he could hear him. He brandished a long cast iron rod with an 'x' at the end. Then, going over to the fireplace, he held the rod in there for a long time. "Alfred! You really did a number on them and this apartment." His eyes scanned over the place, each room, all the furniture, it screamed Arthur's personality, until recently. Recently, it had the traces of that girl. Was it jealousy when he thought of her name, and what she did with Arthur? Maybe.

When the rod glowed red at the end, Francis went back to Arthur's body, hearing his somewhat unsteady breathing, and turned Arthur on his stomach. He pulled up his shirt.

At this point, Alfred had finished pulling the door off the girl, where the mass of blood was begin to flow. The girl clutched her stomach. "No-" she whimpered, the door hadn't hit her head, just toppled her to the ground. She was miscarriaging. Alfred could see that. How convienent, he thought.

Francis pressed it against the soft skin of Arthur's back, the searing noise was almost unbearable. "I wish it didn't have to be this way." He said, once the rod finished making an x. Lines overlapping, like how their two paths crossed, his and girl's more specifically.

A bleeding girl, a marked nation. Francis and Alfred stood together, their faces darkened at the sight of their work. They deserved it they silently reminded themselves. Then, they left. Only to call an ambulance to help.

The girl, could feel her baby leaving, all their happiness, it all just left. After all she had been through. She felt betrayed as Arthur had kept that information from her. She just gave and let herself succumb to the swirling blackness.


	6. Sometimes Farewell is the Best

Sometimes Farewell is the Best

They both made good recoveries, in the weeks that passed. Alfred and Francis came to see both of them, after recieving a good bit of yelling on Arthur's part. They didn't come back for a little while. Arthur didn't know when he could forgive them. If I could never forgive them, that'd be nice. He thought. They didn't deserve his forgiveness. They did the worst. He was hurt by his friends.

This was the consequences for his actions. Arthur noted, with a grunt and sigh. The baby hadn't made it. Any trace of their short lived happiness, disappeared. Maybe, in another lifetime, they could love each other fully. Without anyone to care about. She would pass away before him in this life. Maybe, just maybe, if it was meant to be, they could fall in love again.

In the meantime, he would become a better person. He could be someone worthy of her love. It would take some time, but he could do it. He wanted her to be happy, no matter what. It broke his heart to remember that she wouldn't be happy with him.

She had packed her bags and was ready to go. He stood and they left in silence. The train station was crammed with activity. Arthur paid for her ticket. "I don't want to go." She said then added. "But, I have to, don't I?"

"I'm sorry." Arthur mumbled.

"It's because, that'll happen again, right?"

"I only want to see you happy, you shouldn't have to deal with that. Please, find someone who will make you happier than I could."

"You're the only one for me. But, I'll try."

She kissed him. Arthur tried to conjure every emotion he could for her, and put it into this last kiss.

Then the train whistle blew, and she boarded. He watched her go, as she waved to him from the window, and he waved stiffly back, keeping one hand in his jacket pocket.

When he got back to his apartment, he cried, for the first time in a long, long while. Now, he would have a lot of fixing to do. But, the experience of being able to live his lover, this was all worth it. He only wished things could have been different.

He would sell this apartment, there were too many memories. Her presence was everywhere in this place. From the scent of her hair on her sheets, to the rattle and clatter of the breakfast in the kitchen. He would go back to his house, his real house.

Only she knew what she would do. Arthur would put her out of his mind for the time being.

No matter what, he would always love her, but would find new people to love. A part of him would always love the girl whose name was yours.


End file.
